She lives to please me. All Lucy wants to do is make me happy. She seeks approval, listens to commands, and wags her tail in delight when I come through the door. She even brings me my freakin’ slippers.
She’s a dope cuddler. Yeah, it’s great to snuggle up with a guy, but my puppy is always there to snuggle and doesn’t want me to make her a sandwich, or hog the remote, or you know, want a BJ. She’s just warm company.
She’s a man magnet. Everyone loves Lucy. Her personality is so sweet, gentle, and calm. Whether we’re on a walk, at the dog park, in a park, or eating at a sidewalk cafe that allows pups to lay at your feet, people approach me asking if they can pet her and tell me she’s gorgeous and so kind. And yes, men, hot men, have done this too; I’ve exchanged numbers …that lead to bad dates, of course. When was the last time a boyfriend helped attract dudes? NEVER. EVER.
She’s drama free. The most drama Lucy ever stirs up is eating my underwear, leaving water droplets near her bowl, or eating my kid’s crayons. And there’s no fighting or screaming over any of this. I tell her no. She stops. We move on. It’s not dragged out, Like, UHHHH, I still remember that time you ate those crayons and pooped rainbows. That was horrible, you as*hole. I can’t believe I’m still talking to you.
Her birthday and holiday gifts are so cheap and she loves them. Bone. $6.99 Done and oh, she thanks me with a million wet kisses then sits by my feet and chews away for hours.
She keeps me thin. Boyfriends always want to drink wine or eat out or share dessert or cook some fancy (crappy) meal to show off — blah-blah-blah. I walk my dog three miles a day. My ass has never looked better.
I never have to wait or wonder if she’ll call. Fine. Dogs don’t have phones — duh. But the truth is I always know where Lucy is. Next to me. She’s my little lover. My tiny shadow. I trip over her.
Single moms, be honest: Are your dogs cooler than finding a dude?